Lewd Dreams
by FeelTheCold
Summary: Mina Murray has a difficult life as it is. With the pressure of dreams she's having of Alexander, distance in her relationship with her fiancé, and a shocking realization that her best friend is attracted to her, what else could go wrong? Continue reading for the answer. Rated M for the adult content.


**Author's note: This is my first attempt at NBC's Dracula fanfiction. Please review, and tell me what you think about it!**

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The snow was falling outside. It always fell around this time. The temperature was below freezing, and the gravel roads were veiled with a thick sheet of ice. My fiancé was out working for Alexander Grayson once again, in spite of the unpleasant weather conditions. I had shared my concerns with Jonathan countless times regarding his seemingly deceptive boss. I didn't trust the man as far as I could spit, and that wasn't a lengthy distance. Spitting. Had my mother been present and able to read my thoughts, I would have been backhanded for that comparison. She had raised me to be a proper lady, prominent in society, but I had no interest in being the traditional wife. I loved Jonathan, with everything that I had in me, but I did not wish to be tied to his side night after night, tending to our future children, and cooking meals for the entire family. Jonathan knew this, he scoffed often over the mention of my dreams.

I wanted to be a physician-traditionally a man's occupation-but women were slowly beginning to tread within the field. I was the first woman in our town to chase after this dream, and I was looked down upon by many, but I cared not. As Mr. Grayson had once told me, "When it comes to dreams, one may falter, but the only way to fail is to abandon them." It was fascinating, yet terrifying, that the man who I was growing increasingly suspicious of, was just about the only man that encouraged me not to give up on my dreams, not to abandon them. My own fiancé was embarrassed by me. He was too kind to say so, for he feared hurting my feelings, or worse, losing his bride-to-be, but I knew what he was thinking. My Jonathan was a kind man, but he had the eyes of windows-you could peer into his soul-and see his thoughts for what they truly were.

Still, Jonathan supported me, in his own way. He may have not been entirely pleased by my decisions, but he respected them, and that was more than I could ask of him. I was fortunate enough to be where I was. I had a roof over my head, food that I could eat, an affectionate fiancé that returned home to me at the end of a long day at work. This was what I wanted. This was the life I deserved. The trouble was, I had a difficult time believing myself.

A knock at the front door startled me, distracting me from my thoughts, thoughts that threatened to ruin me, but my dreams were worse. My dreams would unravel me completely, and I would wake a sweaty mess, with a pool of dampness lingering within the juncture of my thighs. I was still a virgin, still in my prime, but the dreams I would have of Mr. Grayson each evening were enough to make me consider slipping my hand between my legs and... the door-someone still knocking at the door.

I'd sent the maids away hours ago, much to Jonathan's protest. He argued that he was paying them good money, that he wasn't going to hand out his pay for free. What Jonathan failed to realize, however, was that our employees had families of their own, spouses and children that needed to be cared for. It wasn't as if we had numerous individuals in our home at any given day. Usually, I was just by myself, alone with my thoughts, and staring out at the joyful children as they played in the snow below.

In spite of the protests that were coming from my legs, I swung my torso over the edge of the mattress and padded down the dim corridor barefoot. The sound of my footfalls were reverberating in my ears as I trudged down the steps. As I approached the door, I peered through the peephole. There was a murderer roaming the town's streets. There hadn't been many details that had emerged within the public to date, but caution was advised to all of the town's residents. Know thy enemy, and know who you were inviting into your home.

Fortunately, it was only my best friend behind the door, with a sour pout plastered upon her face and her arms crossed along her midsection. She had the face of a real mass murderer. I muffled a laugh, and turned the knob, my smile apologetic as she stepped in through the threshold and wrapped her arms around me. Lucy had the temper of a wildfire, unpredictable, but grievous should you find yourself caught in the crossfire. She possessed a sharp tongue, but a heart of gold, and easily succumbed to an apology. I envied her for that, because I had a tendency to hold grudges, but that was a discussion for another time. For now, I had many things to catch up on, and my first order of business was confessing something to Lucy... something I would never dare to utter to another soul... my dreams about Alexander.

If there was anyone that I could trust in the entire world, it was Lucy. She was my best friend, my shoulder to cry on, and my sister. We had known each other since childhood. Perhaps Lucy could help me make sense of what the dreams meant, and how I could rid myself of them.

"Come on now, we must gossip," I said.

My words sent us both into a fit of giggles, because that's what we did whenever we were together. We clucked like old hens together, commenting on the miserable elderly, the ridiculous outfits that were worn out in the public eye, and rumors that were circulating around the town. It was all in good fun, not intended to hurt any feelings, but Lucy and I both knew that not a soul would ever hear about our chatter. We'd sworn secrecy with one another, and that was the one thing that I was counting on here-that Lucy wouldn't run to Jonathan and repeat my concerns that were told to her in confidence.

Once we reached my bedroom, I collapsed on the mattress, the thick tendrils of my auburn tresses sprawling out upon the pillow. Moments later, Lucy was beside me, nestling against my side with a palm propped beneath her chin, prepared to listen to whatever I was about to say.

I didn't know how to say it exactly, but I was going to try, and if all else failed and I chickened out, at least I could pat myself on the back for having the courage.

"Lucy... I'm confused. I love Jonathan, you know that as well as I," I spoke, my voice trembling.

Lucy nodded her head in agreement, sensing that there was a 'but...' coming, for she arched an eyebrow in a combination of curiosity and concern. "Continue," she spoke softly, her turquoise eyes fixated on my pale visage.

"I have been having dreams... dreams that aren't about Jonathan."

As I spoke, I choked on Jonathan's name, but eventually forced myself to speak it. She had to know. I couldn't keep secrets from Lucy, but I wasn't sure if I was confident enough in myself to continue. I was trying, I reminded myself. Lucy would understand my hesitance.

"My dreams... they're about Mr. Grayson, Lucy. Lewd dreams. Dreams that, just the thought of them, make me blush."

I raced on before Lucy had an opportunity to put her two cents in, feeling obligated to clarify something I'd already said.

"I love Jonathan. I do, Lucy. I love him with all my heart. I want his children, I want to marry him, I want to share the rest of my life with him. However, I'm frightened. I'm afraid that these dreams mean something, that I'm going to regret marriage with Jonathan."

I couldn't speak anymore. My eyes were filling to the brim with tears, and soon, the levies broke. I couldn't stop the sobs that were racking through my body as I nestled my face against #Lucy's chest, nearly hyperventilating. It was all so upsetting, but in a way, I gained pleasure from the experience, because OdiousSocialite was so attractive. My hormones would be the death of me.

Lucy offered no words, nothing to comfort me. She just tipped my chin up with two fingers, forcing my teary gaze to meet her own, and pressed her lips against my own. This wasn't the answer that I was looking for, this wasn't what I wanted, yet I was kissing her back-my sister, my best friend-I was kissing her.

I gasped and recoiled, nearly toppling off of the bed. I stared at her for a moment, and she knew that I knew. She knew that I knew she was planning this, that she never intended to give me advice. Lucy was much like Jonathan, in the sense that her eyes gave away her every thought.

Now, I cried harder. This wasn't what I needed. This wasn't what I was looking for. I didn't need any more confusion that I already had. Lucy crossed the line, and pushed my past my limits. I wasn't so much upset that she kissed me, but that I kissed her back. The whole ordeal was so chaotic. Complete chaos.

I jumped from the bed, my voice trembling.

"Get out!"

I was shouting. I was hysterical, and I knew it. Immediately, Lucy mirrored my own reaction, as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She reached to grab hold of the hem of my gown, to try to calm me, to apologize, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"Get out of my house!"

As a sobbing Lucy ran to escape the room, a clueless Jonathan came waltzing in, first staring at Lucy, then turning a scrutinizing eye towards me. I held my hand up, sniffling. I didn't want to talk about it. I only wanted to be left alone.

"Good night, Jonathan," I whispered.

My tone was cold; aloof, but the message was sent. I heard the door shut behind #Jonathan, his footfalls fading as he walked farther from the door. Eventually, I cried myself to sleep, and dreamt of Alexander Grayson, and Lucy.


End file.
